Upon Reflection
by kandora
Summary: "She might've given up before, but she had been only a little girl back then. She'd given up on Homura, Mami, Sayaka, and all the rest – given up on magical girls and saving the world. She was a grown woman now, and she wouldn't give up on Homura again." Disclaimer: this is a silly AU that doesn't make any canon sense no matter how you look at it. Also: no Rebellion Story here.


What Homura had given to Madoka, she could never repay. It hadn't been only Homura's life - it had been several.

In the beginning of their new past, Madoka had tried to explain everything to Homura. About how her time magic had backfired, and sent them both back into the past that Homura had kept traversing. She had tried, yes, but this Homura was even colder, harsher, and more driven than the previous one. She wouldn't give Madoka the time of day. Not when she thought of her as merely another carbon coby to be led to the slaughter by Kyubey's schemes. She had forgotten that Madoka remembered.

Eventually Madoka realised that time worked differently for Homura and her. Homura lived in a strange, lonely loop of unchanging realities, driven only by her sole purpose. With each restart of the loop she stripped herself down even further of all unnecessary weight, cutting a chain of linked relations down to one cord, losing sight of her humanity more and more.

Meanwhile, Madoka's own reality was a solid world of everyday existence, where casual gestures and earnest words carried all the weight they could in people's lives. A world of simple, basic truths where promises were kept and broken, friendships were made, and people grew old alongside their loved ones.

And grow older she did. Eventually she graduated from school, and left the place where it had all began. No longer did she hear the determined steps of Homura as she strode down the hallway, then slowed her steps to take a long, lingering look at Madoka. No longer did Homura's expression change as her brain adjusted to the new reality, now moving forward despite her continuing attempts to rewind. Madoka wished she could alter the present further by breaching Homura's defenses, opening up to her and telling her the truth. But some things never changed.

Years down the line, when she was feeling distraught and lonely, Madoka still sometimes stopped to wonder what had become of the current Akemi Homura. Was she still roaming the hallways of Mitakihara, forever searching for the Kaname Madoka that would never be? Did she even realise she was now trapped in the loop, master-turned-puppet of her own powerful time magic?

The only tangible reminder of the shadow of Madoka's past was her persistent reflection in a mirror – that of a young girl of fourteen. And what was more, any reflective surface showed the same thing. Kyubey, Kyoko, Mami, Hitomi, and even Sayaka were all long gone from her life, but she couldn't help being reminded of them every time she looked in a mirror. Eventually she came to hate mirrors, and made sure not to have any in her own home. Her husband smiled to himself and shook his head, thinking it was only a mild quirk of her otherwise perfect wife.

One day, out shopping in town, Madoka found herself caught in a torrent of rain. As she sought shelter under an eaves, she was surprised to bump into a middle school girl who had had the same idea. As their eyes met, she instantly recognised the girl standing beside her. Madoka's heart jumped up to her throat, beating hard like fit to burst. It was difficult to conceal the surge of emotion the strange chance meeting caused in her, considering the last time she had caught a glimpse of Homura had been around five years ago and only from a distance.

Seeing Madoka's instant reaction, the younger girl turned slightly towards her and looked at her curiously. Homura's lips parted slightly as a glint of something flashed in her eyes. Recognition, perhaps? Hands shaking, heart trembling, Madoka prayed it was so. Still, it was a cruel twist of fate to have it happen after all these years.

The twinkle in Homura's gaze dimmed and she turned her head away, not saying a word. Madoka released a soft sigh. She might've given up before, but she had been only a little girl back then. She'd given up on Homura, Mami, Sayaka, and all the rest – given up on magical girls and saving the world. She was a grown woman now, and she wouldn't give up on Homura again.

Akemi Homura," Madoka said softly, turning around to look at her own reflection on the shop window. Homura's name sounded weird out of her mouth after so many years. "It's strange to meet you again like this."

Homura swiveled around, eyes wide open, mouth slowly agape in astonishment. She didn't meet Madoka's eyes. Instead she turned to where the older woman was looking, and saw the same reflection she saw in the glass. Madoka watched Homura's face closely as clear understanding began to dawn on her young features.

"So it's true, then," Homura said after a while, lowering her head. "I figured as much. But I had hoped... well, nevermind."

Madoka smiled at Homura, trying to hold back the welling tears, knowing she was fighting a losing battle. She couldn't speak for the tightness in her throat. She only managed a nod in response.

Homura let out a weak, bitter chuckle. "So... looks like time has made fools out of us both."

Time, huh? Madoka thought to herself. Or was it me? She felt the lump in her throat expand, threatening to break out into a teary sob. As the words forsook her, she stepped forwards and gathered Homura into a tight embrace, bursting into tears at the same time.

Homura brought her hands around Madoka's waist and smiled into the older woman's tears. "Now, now, Madoka. Don't cry. We have all the time in the world."


End file.
